


Neutral Warnings

by sarcasticasfuck



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, F/M, Gen, I Am Not British, I Know Nothing About Children, Kid!Fic, M/M, No Werewolves, This Does Not Take Place In London, Warning: Kate Argent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-22
Updated: 2013-07-02
Packaged: 2017-12-15 18:28:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/852679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarcasticasfuck/pseuds/sarcasticasfuck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some assume that Ending the World is simple. Most that think this don't carry out the finer detail planing. When the subtle nuances of the reasoning behind Armageddon are lost in games of telephone and the bi yearly picnics that are supposed to increase productivity rivalries between the Realms are routinely canceled by a fickle God the reasoning behind the End can be rather easily forgotten.</p><p>OR</p><p>Wherein; an Angel and a Demon displace the Antichrist amongst a group of children and in an attempt to insure He/She receives a well rounded education in both the Holy and Unholy ways of life decide to open up a daycare center. This will either be the greatest idea since the creation of the internet or a bigger catastrophe than the whole apple debacle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. DRAMATIS PERSONAE

**Author's Note:**

> Please don't hurt me?

**SUPERNATURAL CREATURES**

God (God)

Metatron (The Voice of God and Not Necessarily to be Trusted)

Derek * (An Angel Who's Disposition Does Not Mesh Well With the Face Hand Crafted By God Himself)

Satan (A Fallen Angel, The Adversary)

Beelzebub (A Likewise Fallen Angel and Prince of Hell)

Harris (Previously seevy teacher and Duke of Hell)

Daehler (Homicidle and Duke of Hell)

Stiles * (An Angel That Didn't so Much as Fall as Get Distracted by Something Shiny in the Fourth Circle of Hell)

Boyd (Satanical Hellhound And Cat-worrier)

Erica (A Worried Cat)

 

**APOCOLYPTIC HORSEPERSONS**

DEATH (Death)

Kate (Pollution)

Peter (Famine)

Gerard (War)

 

**HUMANS**

Agnes Nutter (A Prophetess)

John Stilinski (Wages Clerk and Witchfinder Private)

Jagustynka Nutter (Practical Occultist and Professional Descendant)

Victoria (Witchfinder Sargeant)

Master Chris Argent (Professional Companion [Mornings and Thursday by Arrangement] and Medium)

Sister/Nurse Melissa McCall (A Satanic Nun of the Order of the Healing Hands of Lady Wrath)

**THE THEM**

Scott McCall (The Antichrist)

Allison Argent (The Girl)

Jackson Whittemore (A Boy)

Lydia Marten (A Girl)

 

 

**AND**

Isaac (A Boy Who's Life Gets Better)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * It is worthy to note that Derek and Stiles are not their God given names but for you, dear reader, they shall be called by their preferred human names for the sight of Holy and Unholy scripture has been know to melt the brains of those individuals less prone to magicks.


	2. In The Beginning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so this is probably going to be really long and take a while to write and i can't spell worth crap....fair warning? also tags. also I'm pretty sure [this](http://www.spellcheck.net/grammar-check/) and [this](http://www.grammarbase.com/) where the best finds ever.

"In the begining it was a nice day."

This, of course, surprised no one because rain hadn't been invented yet.

Under an apple tree sat an angel and a demon.

The average human would not know this however because at this point in time, so early in the existence of the universe the angel and demon had yet to create their standard humanoid shapes. Once they do though these shapes will be the ones they use continually for the next several millenia. Right now the angel is the shape of a rather large and murderous looking wolf and the demon is a ball of rather annoyed fire.

The angel frowns out at the gathering gray clouds. 1 "It looks like it's going to rain soon." he says, glancing surreptitiously at the demon floating next to him.

The demon, whose name is Stiles, wasn't paying attention. "I don't understand what the point of all that was."

The angel, whose name is Derek, shifted uncomfortably. "I don't think it's really our place to question..."

Stiles rolled his eyes. Or would have, if he had eyes in his current form. "You probably can't question. I can question all I want. In fact, I'm pretty sure it's in my job description."

"I think it was an exercise in resisting sin." Derek mumbled.

"What's wrong with sin?" Stiles asked, sparks flying from him in anger.

Derek moved away a little to prevent his fur catching fire. "Humans aren't supposed to sin. No one should really."

Stiles scoffed. "You obviously haven't found the fun sins yet." Derek side-eyed the demon, unsure of what he meant, but not really wanting to know. "I don't expect you to understand."

Stiles spun in a lazy circle around the wolf. "Good, because I don't."

The two sat in silence for a few minutes until the rain started to fall. "Well," Stiles sighed. "I guess that's my cue." He eyed the angel next to him and said, teasingly, "Don't do anything I wouldn't do!" and disappeared in a puff of smoke.

Derek glared halfheartedly at the empty air where the demon had been. He grumbled under his breath "I would say the same, but I'd hate for you to get your wings back." He instantly felt guilty. Luckily there had been a convenient clap of thunder and he doubted Stiles had actually heard him.

He moved to curl up under the tree and was just starting to get comfortable when something hit him on the head. He jerked back up and looked around. There lying innocently in the grass was a half charred apple. He glared at it.

When you think about it, their first meeting rather set the tone for the rest of their friendship. And their later romantic relationship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1 At least, it can be presumed he's frowning. It's rather hard to tell through all the fur.


	3. Eleven Years Ago, Part the First

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there are some rather unpleasant demons and a basket that may or may not contain a bomb but probably contains the Antichrist (that's just a guess, it doesn't actually say).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay guys. you can find me on sarcasticasfuck.tumblr you can ask questions, give advice/criticism or tell me a part you want to see in it. you can also do that here! also thanks to tielan on dreamwidth for making a post about doing footnotes. it helped a bunch! just click the footnote then click backspace to get back to your spot!

"God does not play dice with the universe; He plays an ineffable game of His own devising, which might be compared, from the perspective of any of the other players (ie, everybody.), to being involved in an obscure and complex version of poker in a pitch-dark room, with blank cards, for infinite stakes, with a Dealer who won't tell you the rules, and _who smiles all the time_.  
   
It's not a dark and stormy night.”   
   
This was, of course, perfectly alright with Stiles. He’d never really gotten the hang of rain. Even after so many million years he kept expecting himself to go out like a candle  2 .

* * *

In a badly lit car park were two shadowy figures. They were the sort that, should you meet them at a party, you would quietly beg your friends not to leave you alone with. Your friends, of course, tell you you’re being silly and would be extremely shocked the next morning when you wound up dead.   
   
Their names where Harris and Daehler. They were lower level Dukes of Hell.   
   
It is said that before Harris died and became a demon he was a teacher but years of being ignored and under appreciated by his students drove him to drink and drinking made him even more angry. Every day he shouted abuse at those whose minds he was trying to shape and every night he drank until he could no longer feel the pain of knowing he could never teach such simpering idiots.  
   
He was not all that surprised when, one drunk night, he picked a fight with the wrong one of his fellow patrons, and was killed 3 . He worked his way through the ranks of Hell using deceit and all the back-stabbing he could get away with, making himself a favorite to the Higher Ups. They had, after all, gotten where they were the same way. They appreciated the like-mindedness but also knew better than to turn their backs to one another. It would be a funny old world if demons went round trusting each other.    
   
Daehler became a demon, not because of years of slightly evil acts, but because in his last hour on Earth he killed several people 4 . He raised in the ranks with the sheer number of bodies he had taken down, they like that sort of thing in Hell.  

* * *

Stiles doesn’t consider himself an average demon. He also supposes not demon consider themselves average. If they did they probably wouldn’t make it very far in Hell. Stiles likes to think he brings a modern approach to seducing souls to the Underworld.    
   
Not that Stiles has seen the Underworld for years. He’s sure it hasn’t changed much 5 . He and the Higher Ups had a Arrangement though. As long as Stiles continued to bring Hell to Earth instead of bringing Hell to, well, Hell, he could do what he wanted. And Stiles wanted to stay on Earth.    
   
It was a widely known fact that Stiles brought in the largest monthly quota of souls. Very few could really understand how though. Stiles had tried to explain it once, but it had been too much for them. They just won’t accept 21st century. 

“You see, human beings, in general, are a rather cruel lot. It’s much easier to plant several seeds of evil at one time and let them grow the evil _themselves_ than to plant one seed at a time and continuously take care of it _yourself_.”   
   
Needless to say it went rather over their heads. But they couldn’t argue with the results so they let Stiles continues to be odd and productive.   
   
Stiles made sure to abuse his freedom at every opportunity. He once condemned 200 souls to Hell in a single day by rigging the end result to a rather important baseball game while at the same times persuading people to bet on the ‘sure to win’ team. He also made $3000. Stiles liked to multitask. After this large a haul he spent the next 20 years in Canada doing nothing more harmful that annoy a few moose. And ruin a few hockey games. And annoy Derek  6 . 

* * *

Stiles pulled his, slightly battered, blue jeep into the car park and carefully parked in front of the two lurking demons.   
   
“You’re late.” Harris sneered. “All Hail Satan.”   
   
“All Hail Satan.” Daehler parroted.   
   
“Hi,” Stiles said brightly as he half fell out of his jeep. “Sorry I’m late. Traffic was horrible, you know how it is.”   
   
The other demons did in deed know. That didn’t mean they thought it was a reasonable excuse for tardiness. When it wasn't them that had been suck in traffic of course.  
   
“Let us recount the Deeds of the Day.” Harris sighed, already done with Stiles. “I tempted a teacher. I told him it would not hurt to touch his students.” This was one of Harris’ specialties. Stiles suspected it was from experience. “In a decade we shall have him.”    
   
Daehler nodded in rapt attention.“I told a lonely soul he would never have friends. In a month we shall have him.”   
   
They both looked expectantly to Stiles. He grinned at them. “I spread a rumor on the internet.”   
   
Harris raised a brow. “And?” he asked impatiently.   
   
“It was about canceling a tv show!” Stiles said in his defense. The other demons continued to stare.   
   
If they didn’t understand how could Stiles explained that he’d completely ruined the day, possibly week, of ten thousand bloggers? That they had spent hours fighting with one another, with everyone they had seen that day? That the ten thousand became 20 thousand? That no matter how much backpedaling the show's creators tried no one would listen? That the head director personally fired five people? That he had started a downward spiral for 50 of them and eventually would _have them all_? Of course they didn’t understand. They were used to taking one soul at a time. They probably couldn't comprehend ten let alone 50.   
   
Stiles finally settled on just a shrug. “Well the Higher Ups seem happy. What’s going on anyway?”   
   
Harris reached down and picked up a basket that had been at his feet. “This.”   
   
Stiles stared at the basket with a mix of horror and resignation someone strapped to a ticking time bomb usually feels. He leaned over and looked inside. The continence of the basket cooed at him. He jerked back in fear.   
   
“He likes you!” Daehler crowed in the similar delight of someone who had talked their way out of the line a madman’s sights.   
   
Harris nodded. “Maybe he’ll save you for last.”   
   
Stiles edged away from the basket. “What are you doing with him?” He didn’t particularly want to know but he also wanted to be polite, just in case He was into that sort of thing. You can never be too careful  7 .   
   
“You,” Harris said, relishing the word. “Are taking Him.”   
   
Stiles looked from the basket to Daehler to Harris in panic. “No.” he said, trying to sound as firm as possible while also trying to making a slow and calculated retreat.   
   
“Yes.” Harris said, grinning. Daehler slipped around Stiles and pushed him back towards the basket. Stiles didn’t try to resist. He didn’t really have much of a choice after all.   
   
“It’s a reward Stiles.” Harris said with a particularly mean look on his face. “For all that ‘ _hard work_ ’ you’ve been doing.” You could practically see the quotation marks.   
   
Stiles hesitantly took the basket. It gurgled menacingly.   
   
“I’m sure He’ll make you a lieutenant one day.” Harris said in the tone one usually used when saying “Over my dead body!” right before someone commits homicide.   
   
Stiles, having long ago decided to very carefully pick his battles to insure his continued existence, backed slowly towards his jeep. “Well, I’ll, _we’ll_ just be on our way than.”   
   
Stiles careful set the basket onto his backseat before climbing in and with a wave as cheerful as he could mange (not very) he took off.   
   
Harris and Daehler looked at each other. “Think he’ll mess up?” Daehler asked, not at all worried about Stiles, just that if Stiles fucked up Daehler would get caught in the resulting fiery shit storm.   
   
“He won’t if he knows what’s good for him.” Harris tone suggested that it would be good for Stiles to never be alone with him, least Stiles discover how _real_ demons work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2 Stiles in his natural form was much larger than your average candle, despite what Derek may say. All of Stiles in any form was bigger than your average candle, also despite what Derek may say. That is if he was ever inclined to talk about such things in pleasant (or not so pleasant) company. 
> 
> 3 The man who killed him served no jail time, just community service at the local community center. There he found his life’s calling. He joined the Peace Core, spent the rest of his days saving the lives of children in war torn countries, and died, in his sleep, at the ripe old age of 97, a martyr and a saint. 
> 
> 4 Daehler claimed that all those he killed were responsible for his death. He is of course right, considering he was shot after he had killed them. He means, though, that when he was a child he had a near death experience and those he killed had been present and did nothing to save him. It was found in autopsy that he had suffered sever brain damage from lack of oxygen. This, unsurprisingly, changed nothing. 
> 
> 5 Hell was exactly the way Stiles had last seen it. His neighbors still screamed, the hell hounds still barked, and they still couldn’t make a decent cup of coffee. 
> 
> 6 Derek, of course, annoyed Stiles right back. By ignoring him. Derek rather liked baseball the way humans played it. Not the way Stiles did. 
> 
> 7 Stiles had once been rude to a man who wanted to eat his liver. It was rather embarrassing all around when it was discovered Stiles didn’t actually have internal organs.


End file.
